


Day for Night

by MarkoftheAsphodel



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Seisen no Keifu | Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Drama & Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-08 21:58:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4322265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarkoftheAsphodel/pseuds/MarkoftheAsphodel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Intrigue and romance unfold on board a luxury liner bound for Silesse. Prince Quan is keeping his vow to aid his brother-in-law Sigurd, Princess Ethlyn is playing matchmaker, Raquesis has a ticket that won't get her all the way to Silesse, and Finn is in the middle of it all. Quasi-Edwardian Era AU with a bit of alternate continuity going on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Mystery Guest

“Lady Altena!  Wait!”

It was said to take a man of average speed a good twenty-five minutes, at a brisk walk, to cross the main deck of the _Queen_ _Nova_. Lady Altena dashed away from Finn at a rate that might’ve taken her from bow to stern in twenty, and Finn felt a flutter of panic in his chest as the little girl navigated the gaps between their fellow passengers.  If he were to lose her…

“Lady Altena, _please_!”

Altena skidded to a halt, spun ‘round in a flurry of skirts and scampered back to Finn.  This time he took her securely by the hand, though not before checking to be certain Lady Altena’s white hat with its broad red ribbon was fastened beneath her chin.

“You mustn’t run off.  This ship is not a playground,” he said, and Lady Altena responded to this mild chiding by showing Finn a perfectly satisfied smile.

_Everything_ was Lady Altena’s playground, even the greatest steamer of the northern seas.

“We’re going back to our rooms now, and Nanny will have to look after you the rest of the afternoon,” Finn said, and Lady Altena’s smile inverted at once into a toothy frown. “And you mustn’t scowl like that, either. Chin up, like a good girl.”

“I _won_ _’_ _t_ ,” said Lady Altena. “I want to walk with you, Finn.  You _said_ we could walk along the deck all the way to the end.”

Finn held to the punishment of taking Lady Altena back to Nanny, as it was the only real discipline he could dole out to the little princess.

“If you behave perfectly the next twenty-four hours, I’ll take you to the end of the deck tomorrow,” he said. 

Finn half-expected Lady Altena to respond to this by wrenching off her hat and sending it flying over the rail, but instead the princess straightened her small shoulders, held up her chin, and walked back to their sleeping quarters with as much dignity as a five-year-old could possess.  Even if there was something of _I_ _’_ _ll show you I can behave_ in her step, it was technically compliance.  

* * *

 

Lady Altena continued her show of good behavior until she was dropped off with Nanny. The premature end to their outing on the deck meant that Finn had about two hours of time on his hands, and since this wasn’t a normal or comfortable state for Finn, he walked back to his own rooms feeling at a bit of a loss.  He could have simply relaxed in the suite Princess Ethlyn had booked for him; with its electrical call bell, damasked wallpaper, and silver-plated tap, the suite might have passed for a first-rate hotel room had the furniture not been bolted to the floor. But at present Finn didn’t feel like penning a letter at the elegant writing desk or calling up a meal; he hesitated for a moment in the doorway, then stepped back into the corridor and shut the door behind him.

Surely, on so fine a ship he could find some way of passing two hours.  He could avail himself of the swimming pool, or the baths, or find one of the orchestras who performed throughout the ship.  Finn never quite managed to do any of these things. He spent his unexpected free time wandering the deck, getting lost enough in the process that he found himself in a stairwell meant for use by Second Class passengers, staring at middle-aged member of said class.  They were, Finn thought, equally surprised by one another.

“My lord,” the man said with a tip of his hat.

“That isn’t necessary,” Finn murmured as he backed out of the stairwell, but he wasn’t sure if the other heard him, or if it mattered. Likely it didn’t matter; the man was conditioned to address anyone not immediately placeable among the working class as “my lord” lest he give offense to the member of some noble house. 

This particular member of a noble house of Leonster now had to lean back against the bulkhead and laugh at himself.

“I should’ve stayed in and written letters.”

* * *

 

Finn did manage to get back to his rooms in time for dinner.  Princess Ethyln wasn’t cross with him over the incident with Lady Altena; rather, she was _sparkling_ in the manner she had when some surprise was in store.  Tonight’s surprise was that the princess had invited a guest to dine with them in the privacy of the Regal Suite. Ethlyn wouldn’t give up the name, and Finn spent some time trying to guess. So many of the continent’s most celebrated were on the _Queen Nova_ that the mystery guest might have been a celebrated painter, a wealthy shipping magnate, a famed general, a great architect…

“None of these, Finn,” Princess Ethlyn laughed.  “It’ll be someone whose company is much more pleasing to you.”

Finn still didn’t understand her, not until their guest arrived appeared in the doorway like a conjured shade.  A fashionable shade, to be sure, with black ostrich feathers adorning her bonnet and jet beads tinkling along the hem of her black velvet gown. A beautifully-fitted black velvet gown, Finn thought, as he bowed to the degree a Princess of House Nordion merited.

“Lady Raquesis... I am glad to see you looking well.”

Ordinarily he would’ve said more, would’ve offered some requisite condolences to the recent widow, but something stopped him.  It might have been the ostrich cockade, or the elegant flare of the sable skirt, or the merest fringe of netting that dangled the lady’s bonnet in place of a mourning veil.

“I’m quite well, thank you,” she said in the low voice that brought to mind ripe Agustrian fruit, lush black plums and rose-tinged velvet peaches. Her eyes shone like topaz from under that inadequate netting.

And here Finn caught himself, because if he were thinking in the poetic cliches of sun-ripened stone fruit and semi-precious gems, he was already quite out of line and they hadn’t been served the first course yet. Prince Quan hadn’t even _arrived_ yet. But then the Crown Prince appeared, a smile on his lips rather than any excuse for his tardiness, and Finn retreated into his thoughts while the royal couple entertained Lady Raquesis. Those thoughts were pruned of any stray bits of poesy, as Finn resolved to treat this lighthearted dinner as though it were a staff meeting.  From the conversation between Ethlyn and Raquesis, he determined the following about the Princess of Nordion: 

1)      She had left her only son, borne to her late husband, in the care of friends in Northern Isaach.

2)      Her infant daughter was sleeping in their stateroom and was a very good baby who coped well with travel.

3)      Her business in Leonster had been checking up on her only other living relative, the young son of her late brother.

4)      She was now returning to Isaach to reunite with said son and would not be going further than the northernmost port of Isaach on this journey. 

“Oh, but that’s a shame,” said Princess Ethlyn.  “I was hoping you’d be coming all the way to Silesse with us.”

Raquesis made a little noise of agreement.  Yes, it was sad to cut short a journey on Leonster’s finest steamer. But she then glanced at Finn, and there was something in that topaz flash that wasn’t precisely regret.  Finn realized that Nordion’s resourceful princess was, likely as not, gathering information on her own.

Finn did not believe that Lady Raquesis came all the way to Leonster purely to make inquiries into the health and well-being of her nephew.  He wondered now if her return ticket truly went only as far as the last port in Isaach.  

* * *

“Try not to give it all away in one session, Ethlyn,” Quan said.  He tried to sound stern, but the innumerable glasses of claret and port he’d consumed through the evening made his reprimand end in a yawn.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” Ethlyn said as she laid aside her earrings for the night.  “I know Raquesis was playing the diplomat in Leonster in hopes of getting your father’s backing for her nephew’s claims to Agustria.  She knows that we’re going back to Silesse to help Sigurd.  There’s no reason our causes can’t support one another.”

“Aside from the very good reason that Raquesis already lost a husband in Sigurd’s service and might well feel she’s done enough for the cause.”  

Put so baldly, this idea did give Ethlyn pause, but she then said, “I don’t think that’s really the case.”

 “Don’t fret over Raquesis. We’ll get your brother everything that he needs,” Quan assured her, and he put out the lights.

**To Be Continued** **…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I've pretty much abandoned FFNet I'll be contining the story here. Yes, I messed with the canon timeline a bit for this AU. Sigurd's penned up in Silesse hoping to get home some day, but Leif and Nanna are already born. There's more. Stay tuned!


	2. A Load of Potatoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A grand dinner for the First Class passengers features political intrigue as an unwanted side course.

A sun-gilded seed drifted through the blue sky above the coast of southern Isaach. Finn felt a shiver of recognition down his neck at the sight— though this far south, near the capital of Isaach, it was surely a passenger-liner and not bearing a payload of bombs—but Lady Altena reacted to it with a shout of delight.

“Can we ride an airship in Silesse, Finn?”

“I don’t think so, Lady Altena. Airships are needed for the war right now, and Her Majesty the Queen won’t have any to spare.”

Finn wasn’t all that comfortable with the silent silver airships of the north; aside from the question of whether man was truly meant to leave the earth, airships blossomed into a floating inferno when their fragile metal skins burst-- as they did, too often.

Lady Altena wanted to be an airship captain, wanted to sail through the skies without wings like the bravest women of Silesse, and now she asked Finn for a story that would suit her fancies.  He placated her by piecing together a tale of heroic Captain Mahnya, who’d come down from the heavens like an angelic messenger to show Lord Sigurd the way to safety.

Captain Mahnya had been dead for two years now, but Finn didn’t tell that part of it to Altena.  She began to tell him in turn of the grand things she would do and the adventures she would have once she took flight, and assured Finn that he could come along, _must_ come along on all those adventures.  So it went until he returned her to Nanny’s care.

“I hope she takes a proper nap,” Finn said to Nanny once Altena was handed off. “She needs to be on her best behavior for dinner tonight. Is Lord Leif feeling any better today?”

Leonster’s tiny heir hadn’t taken to the seas.  Lord Leif wasn’t able to keep his breakfast down the first two days of the voyage, but Nanny now relayed that Lord Leif had eaten all of his lunch and not been sick afterward and was fit for an appearance at dinner that evening. This would be no private dinner in the Regal Suite; after leaving the port that serviced Isaach’s capital, the _Queen Nova_ ought to have her fullest complement of distinguished guests, and so tonight’s First Class dinner was to be a marvel worthy of every last dignitary and artistic genius.  The royal children would be on display tonight, and Finn could only hope they were up to the task. 

* * *

The First Class dining saloon was a scaled-down imitation of Manster Palace’s grand hall— overflowing with roses and awash gilt and sparkling crystal.  Finn had seen the genuine room at Manster Palace often enough, but the _Queen Nova_ _’_ _s_ replica still impressed him every time he stepped through its doors. He entered now a precise three paces behind the Crown Princess and Princess, guiding Lady Altena with one hand and carrying Lord Leif on his shoulder.  The children certainly looked their best at the moment; Lady Altena, dressed in carmine to match her mother, had smoothly combed hair adorned with a broad velvet band that evoked a diadem.  Lord Leif, suited up in the deep blue of Leonster’s flag, almost looked a doll with his white collar and little buttoned boots.

The five-piece orchestra onstage played a verse of Leonster’s national anthem as the royal family entered but had switched back to chamber music by the time they’d actually reached their chairs. Princess Ethlyn had warned Finn that they’d be seeing more of last night’s guest, and sure enough Lady Raquesis was already there at their table.  Tonight the black gown was moire silk, the beads were black glass with an iridescent glaze and the dark plumes of her bonnet came from some sea-bird; like the beads, they had the rainbow sheen of petrol spilled upon water.  All this, though, was only a glistening backdrop for apricot-hued bundle festooned in lace that she carried in her arms.

“Oh, is this Nanna?” exclaimed the Crown Princess.  “How adorable.”

Ethlyn wasn’t only being polite, as the new member of House Nordion had smoothly pretty little features and a tuft of golden hair visible under her bonnet.  Her eyes were open and she was looking around as though several months old instead of a mere six weeks, and when Prince Quan “shook hands” with her, he reported that she had fine strength in her little pink fingers.  Finn didn’t get to shake hands with Lady Nanna, as he was busy trying to keep Altena in her seat.  The sight of something even smaller and more lovable than Baby Brother had Altena ready to crawl across the table in delight.

“I thought I could handle her by myself for a few hours, so I gave Isa the night off,” Raquesis said to Finn in place of any conventional greeting, and Finn wondered if she was being pointed about the fact that _he_ was expected to child-wrangle his way through the night. 

And a long night it proved— ten courses rather than the usual seven served up to First Class passengers, every one of them rendered a challenge by two lively children.  Leif had to be kept from spilling soup down his front, Altena needed her poached salmon flaked and then mussed about in the sauce before she’d touch it, and then both of them needed their meat cut up when the first entree arrived… Finn was lucky to manage a few bites for himself out of every course and often only had a chance to sip at each glass of wine before it was taken away and replaced with something suited to the _next_ course.

“I can help,” Raquesis offered, and again it seemed to him that there was something _interesting_ in her golden-brown eyes. 

He declined the offer, even though Lady Nanna was presently napping and no trouble to Raquesis at all. He was on duty, after all, just in case some bomb-wielding anarchist happened to be aboard the _Queen Nova_ , even if the most present threat to the royal children was simple indigestion. It was probably for the best that he wasn’t able to drink much of the wine. Though liquor in some form laced every single course…

“Yay!” cried Altena as the waiter set a goblet of frozen punch before her.

“Careful, that has champagne in it…” Finn began, but Princess Ethlyn laughed it off.

“It’s just a taste,” she said, and so Altena dug into the punch as though it were a harmless orange ice. 

Altena of course assumed she’d reached dessert, but really the punch was meant as a refreshing pause in the middle of the meal, and now the ship’s captain came by to converse with some of his most renowned passengers.  He made a special point of greeting little Nanna, the youngest child aboard the _Queen_ _Nova_ _._ Nanna was awake now and also impressed the dignified captain with her steady blue gaze and solid grip. Across the table, though, the royal children were lagging; Leif began to kick and fidget and forget any word other than “no” while Altena started to yawn after consuming half the punch in her goblet.

Four more courses to go, Finn thought as roasted squab in little nests of cress came into view. He’d long ago developed a kind of figurative tunnel vision in order to get through endurance-test events like this one, but now Lady Raquesis kept trying to strike up conversation even as the children required more and more attention.

“Orange and lemons say the bells of—”

“Lady Altena, please don’t stab the plate with your fork.”

“So, it sounds like you’re running the affairs of Leonster while Quan juggles war on two fronts.”

“Whatever kind things Princess Ethlyn said of me, I’m afraid they’re not in keeping with the actual situation.”

“What will you paaaay me?” Altena sang as she chipped out the rhythm to the macabre little tune with her tableware.

“No,” Leif said, almost as though they were singing a round. “No, no, _no_!”

“So rumors that Quan has you overseeing half Leonster’s defenses aren’t grounded in reality?”

“Of course not. Why would he do something like that and then have me come along to Silesse?  I’m drafting letters and keeping account books when I’m not trying to convince Lady Altena not to misbehave at the table.”

“So you’re just looking over the boring things like all those crates of wheat flour down in the hold?”

“Here comes a candle to light you to bed—”

“Lady Altena, _no._ ”

“No!  No!”

Finn had rarely been so glad to see the tray of desserts announcing the true end to a meal, and it certainly wasn’t because he needed anything more to eat. At least the borderline chaos caused by the heirs of Leonster prevented any more discussion of the shipment of wheat to Silesse. 

“I wonder where they found peaches in season,” said Raquesis of the poached fruit on a bed of wine gelee.

“I was told they were brought in from some southern continent where the people still wear skins and carry clubs,” Finn said, because that was the exact sort of operation the _Queen Nova_ was.

“No,” said Lord Leif, but this time it was because he wanted all of the walnuts and apples picked out of his pudding so he could eat the components separately. Lady Altena for her part demolished her pudding as though she’d spent the day fasting and then wanted a caramel-glazed cream puff on top of it.

“That’s enough for one night,” said Finn, and the little princess at last sat back with a perfect smile on her sticky face and her equally sticky hands folded like a plaster angel’s.

“No,” said Leif one last time for good measure.

* * *

Prince Quan suggested that Finn accompany him to the smoking room after dinner.  Princess Ethlyn waved them goodbye and announced that she, Lady Raquesis, and the children would be sipping tea on the balcony while the men enjoyed themselves.  Finn had never picked up the habit but clearly his plans had been made for the evening, so he followed the prince into the great paneled den stocked with brandy, port, and fine cigars.  Another glass of liquor was the absolute last thing Finn needed right now and he he stood by, ill-at-ease in the thick blue air, while Quan took a seat and removed his pipe and a pouch of his custom blend from his coat pocket.  

“The captain received a telegram from Leonster this afternoon.  A Thracian submarine took a civilian cargo ship, the _Pride of Manster_. The submarine captain demanded surrender, and once the _Pride of Manster_ ’s crew was all in lifeboats, they torpedoed her.”

Finn couldn’t say he was entirely surprised at this, shocking as the news ought to be.

“What was she carrying?”

“Nothing but a load of potatoes,” Quan replied.  “All at the bottom of the sea now.”

“They sank the cargo rather than seize it? But Thracia pleads poverty and claims our blockade is strangling them.  Why waste something that could be used?”

“That’s the sort of animal we’re dealing with, Finn.  Whatever noises the Thracians make about the plight of their people...” Quan paused to strike a match and set his pipe alight. “We’re contending with beasts, devoid of honor and without a conscience.”

“Wolves of the sea,” Finn said, for that was what the submariners allegedly called themselves in perverse pride.

“Not even wolves,” said Quan.  “Some lower beast.  Coyotes or hyenas…” The sentence ended in a curl of smoke.  After a few moments, Quan looked up at Finn and seemed surprised that Finn was merely standing there when there were so many pleasures to be had. “That was all I wanted to say, Finn.  Go have a drink.  Enjoy the rest of the night.”

**To Be Continued...**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The southern continent in question would be Valentia or Archanea, the latter of which canonically lagged Jugdral in terms of civilization. Altena's rhyme should be familiar to readers of a certain English-language dystopian classic.


	3. Live Cargo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finn and Raquesis slip away from a ball together.

Princess Ethlyn picked the perfect afternoon for a luncheon at the Verandah Cafe.  Its sparkling glass walls were opened for this unusually fine day upon the northern seas and a genuine marine breeze rippled the greenery around her. 

“The crepes in white wine sauce are my favorite,” she said to her companion.

“Sounds a little too rich for me right now,” said Lady Raquesis, and she frowned over the choice between two different cream soups.

“You’re not feeling seasick, are you?”

“No, I’m just getting used to eating only for myself again,” Raquesis said, in the most overt allusion to the recent birth of her baby that a respectable lady might make in public. “Some things that I used to like, I don’t enjoy any more, and some things I’ve never liked I’ve made myself sick on in the last few months.”

“Oh.” Ethlyn had sailed through her own two pregnancies with barely a moment of sickness or any other aberrant behavior.  “Well, I do hope you’re feeling well enough for the ball tonight.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Raquesis said, and the glance she gave Ethlyn over the edge of the menu was the expression of someone bluffing through a bad hand of cards.

Ethlyn repressed a laugh but couldn’t keep from smiling.  Marriage and war, motherhood and widowhood all shaped Raquesis but hadn’t really brought her maturity. This new shell of jaded boredom fit Raquesis like a borrowed dress; she’d been made of fire and will from the first time they’d met, ten long years before, and Ethlyn simply didn’t believe that the fire was out.

“Oh, Raquesis. Don’t be silly,” she said then, as she had many a time in their girlhood. “You can’t miss this.” 

“Every night of this voyage is an occasion not to be missed,” Raquesis said, all wide eyes and sharp teeth.

“That’s exactly it,” said Ethlyn, and now she did laugh a little. “Every night is one to remember, so you really have to go to the ball.”

“I haven’t anything to wear.  I don’t want to show up like a black rose in the middle of this beautiful garden.”

This was the point where Ethlyn would’ve said, “I have a gown you can borrow,” except that she stood a solid four inches above Raquesis and that really wouldn’t work.  Instead she reached across the table and caught one of the younger woman’s hands in her own.

“Raquesis, I think if you and I put our heads together we can make this a wonderful evening,” she said.

And just as Quan could charm Sigurd into things, and Sigurd in turn could cajole Eldigan against his better judgment, Ethlyn was able to get Eldigan’s headstrong sister to admit that maybe she could use a really good celebration to perk her spirits up.  

* * *

Of course the flower shop on-board the _Queen Nova_ offered corsages for the ladies. Princess Ethlyn instructed him to bring back something cheerful that _wasn_ _’_ _t_ a rose, and Finn hoped the coral-hued peony in a spray of orange-blossom would do the job… if it didn’t make Lady Raquesis faint from its overwhelming fragrance.  The perfume leaking out of the little pink box on his dresser already had flooded through his entire suite.

The children wouldn’t be at the ball, of course, but Finn found himself treating the occasion as he would any other assignment. He had his instructions. He’d committed his lines to memory.  He’d obtained the corsage. In his blue dress uniform, a presentation sword at his belt, Finn supposed he made an acceptable escort for a noble lady of Agustria.  So he walked down the corridor to her stateroom and tapped on her door without any sense of anxiety over how the evening would go, or ought to go.

Isa opened the door on behalf of her mistress and asked if Lord Finn might make himself comfortable for a few moments.  Finn wasn’t surprised that Raquesis was making him wait and declined the drink that Isa offered.  There would be enough of that going on at the ball itself.

Then Raquesis came through the door of her bedroom and Finn both wished he’d had accepted that drink and began to doubt his assignment. The Princess of Nordion stood before him resplendent as a sunset in satin the bright hue of marigolds, with the famed ruby parure of House Nordion in her hair, at her ears, on each wrist, and occupying the general area where the peony corsage was supposed to go. Faced with this spectacle, Finn nearly forgot his script, and it took intense and conscious effort to greet her properly and offer the poor redundant cluster of flowers.  She then graced him with a knowing smile that made her look a bit like a satisfied cat.

So things were already not going to plan when they reached the ballroom, and then the usher made it worse by announcing Finn as the second son of the Duke of Wexford— which was entirely the truth but always made things exquisitely awkward when young ladies of breeding were present. Any _potential_ trouble with the young ladies, though, was nothing at all compared to the actual reaction Finn and Raquesis received from the crowd as a body when the the attendees caught sight of that brilliant satin gown.  It was a hiss, thought Finn, the sound of water thrown over hot coals.  

There always _had_ been talk about Lady Raquesis— because she was the legitimized bastard of the late King of Nordion, because she sought the company of common men in her brother’s employ and spurned the offers of young men from good families, because she stayed at Lord Sigurd’s side long after he’d been blamed for the ruin of Agustria.  And now here she was, seven months a widow and her mourning put aside for the most celebratory color possible.  Perhaps, Finn thought, she’d endured the rumors about herself so long she simply no longer cared. The upper echelon of the _Queen Nova_ _’_ _s_ social life did, though; the older women made a show of snubbing Raquesis in conversation and the younger ladies descended on Finn with a series of equally obvious attempts to get him away from Raquesis. 

It was quite dull, really. Finn found himself beset by a pair of ladies, one in mint-green and the other in shell-pink, who wanted some time with the second son of the Duke of Wexford and knew nothing else about him but that detail.  His rank and background put together caused certain young ladies to imagine vast wealth and castles and the life of ease that awaited them if they could only marry such a man. Finn dearly wanted to explain that yes, his father _had_ been one of the senior nobles in the kingdom of Leonster, but as a _second_ son he’d inherited nothing and all his estates and holdings back home amounted to a townhouse, two horses, and a modest sum of money in the bank.  He imagined this would make the pink-and-green ladies scurry off in search of something better, but since it was ill-bred to discuss his finances, he had to endure them each for the length of a song.

* * *

The ball verged on intolerable, and if there hadn’t been a greater plan in the works Finn would’ve been doubting Princess Ethlyn’s senses.  But a mission was a mission and he endured this, too, until Raquesis gave them an out by reminding him of her recent delicate state.  Of course this added to the scandal of her appearance for anyone in earshot but at this point neither of them really cared in the least. Finn escorted Raquesis out of the ballroom with as much elan as he had and then very deliberately did _not_ steer her in the direction of the staterooms.

“Oh, this is interesting,” Raquesis said as he guided her through a forbidden staircase. For the first time that night she sounded like she meant it.

Finn had no fear now of getting lost, as he’d committed the plan of the passenger decks to memory after his blunder into the Second Class stairwell earlier that week. He knew they weren’t supposed to be on that top deck, but getting caught was all part of the plan, and so as they walked out under the stars he felt at again at ease with his task.

Raquesis, for her part, pulled an enameled case out of her beaded bag and offered him a cigarette.

“No, thank you.”  He did have a match to light a cigarette for her, though.

“All right,” she said.  “Since we’re off alone, maybe you can satisfy my curiosity.”

“Regarding what?”  Finn was certain she meant no innuendo by it.

“How much remorse are you feeling over packing this grand ocean liner of yours with so much in the way of munitions that a careless accident might blow us all to pieces?”

He’d known from the moment she began asking questions about shipments of wheat that Raquesis was on to the ruse and so Finn didn’t bother with any unconvincing denials.

“Oh, I’m not much concerned about that,” he replied.  “I suppose I do feel guilty to be up here enmeshed in the high life while the rest of our number sit down in steerage.”

“What number is that, Finn?”  He could only see half of her face, like a quarter moon, but he heard something unexpected now in her voice.

“The reinforcements we’re bringing to Lord Sigurd.”

“Here?”  Her cigarette flared and died in the dark. “On this ship?”

“Yes.  It seemed far safer than sending a troop carrier through submarine-filled waters.”

“You and Quan have soldiers hidden away on a passenger liner?” 

Finn decided the strange note in her voice was muted outrage.  His own tone chilled considerably as he replied to Raquesis.

“You knew we were coming to support Lord Sigurd. Did you think we merely meant moral support, to cheer him with a visit from his niece and nephew?”

“No... I... well, I did know about the munitions. I’m just a little shocked that you brought live cargo along, too.”

“Well, now you know.”

Footsteps behind them warned Finn that someone was coming up the forbidden staircase, but Raquesis had heard them as well and responded by launching herself toward him and pressing him into a kiss— a long, presumably convincing kiss. She tasted of cigarettes and sherry but in that moment Finn didn’t care; if they’d been seen, he’d fulfilled his promise to Princess Ethlyn.

“Was that good enough?” she muttered afterward. 

“Fine,” he assured her.

The stars, he thought, were so bright they cast shadows.  He would have liked to stay there, but the other young couple making an rendezvous under the stars shortly became obnoxious, and so Finn and Raquesis went back to where they belonged.

**To Be Continued**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea that Finn comes from a distinguished noble family comes from the Fire Emblem: Treasure art book. The idea that Raquesis wasn't exactly a legitimate princess at birth comes from the Oosawa Mitsuki manga adaptation of FE4.


	4. A Thousand Voices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The question of whether or not Raquesis is disembarking in Isaach becomes irrelevant.

"So you’ll be walking out with Raquesis tonight?”

Princess Ethlyn had on a gown of rose-colored satin sewn with seed pearls; a pearl tiara that she favored glistened in her hair. The prince and princess were taking Lady Altena to a private party hosted by the captain that evening, which gave Finn the opportunity to make another essay at completing his assignment.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Ethlyn smiled then, and it was an indulgent smile that seemed to say “Look how cute the children are.”  Finn wondered if his lady did truly understand that Lady Raquesis was not the fanciful little sister of King Eldigan any more. For certain _he_ did not understand the matured Raquesis enough, for all that it was part of his duty to understand her.

“Good luck in the mission,” said Prince Quan, and his smile was just as indulgent as that of the princess. 

* * *

They walked the length of the Promenade and took a spot at the rail between two potted orange trees. Raquesis had on her mourning again, and the netting that dangled from her hat seemed now to Finn like a black flag of rejection.  They talked of inconsequential things and the resulting conversation was so awkward, so disjointed, that Finn began to scan the distant clouds and white-flecked waters as though they might give him some manner of exit.

“Why did you stop?” Raquesis said in tones shaded by irritation when he broke off in the middle of one unimportant sentence.

“That shape in the water…”  Finn peered at the wavering shadow below until the dark bullet leapt clean out of the water and revealed itself to be innocent. “No, it’s only a porpoise.”

“You’re afraid.”

“I’ve every reason to be apprehensive about a raid,” he said without looking at her.

“Yes, you do,” she said softly, and inclined her head in a way that an onlooker might have taken wrongly as affectionate.

They both stared out at the water then, in silence less troubling than stilted conversation. The sun slipped into a band of fog, denying them a perfect ocean sunset.  A distant light to the north-west pulsed its beacon at a hypnotic pace, and Finn felt his tension fade slightly into uneasy calm.

“That lighthouse... it marks the tip of the westernmost peninsula of Isaach,” Raquesis said, the note of judgement gone from her voice.

“You’ll disembark tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“If you were to change your mind, I’m sure the ship would be able to accommodate you…”

“If I holed up in your stateroom, you mean?” Now Finn heard a hint of a laugh, and her eyes flashed at him from beneath the veil.  “You’ll pretend to seduce me and I’ll pretend to accept you. That’s how this was supposed to work?”

“More or less.”

“You, my young lord of Wexford, are not my type.” He knew that, but it stung him nonetheless to hear the words come from her richly-coloured lips. “Do you imagine that I’m the sort of woman that would suit you?”

“Yes,” he said at once, because he’d very rarely met any woman who sent his thoughts gravitating toward cheap poetic phrases.

“And now that we’ve ruined our reputations together, we’ll all go join Sigurd and things will be just as they were? They can’t be, Finn.  My lord brother is never coming back.  Sigurd’s wife isn’t coming back.” She reached again for her cigarette case.  “All we’re going to do now is smash things up some more.  No, thank you. I will go to Tirnanog, surround myself with my children and ride out this war.  Carry on the good fight in Silesse, by all means.  Give my best to Sigurd. But I’m not coming along for this one.”

Since Finn couldn’t agree to any of these statements, he kept silent while she burned through half her cigarette.

“What do you think happened to Deirdre, anyway?” Raquesis asked after a failed attempt at making smoke rings.

“I can’t imagine that she’s not the Princess Deirdre who made her debut at the court of Belhalla two seasons ago.”

“I don’t want to believe that,” Raquesis said through the curls of smoke, and Finn now heard an echo of the girl she’d been, the willful child Princess Ethlyn still thought her to be.

Finn might have pointed out that the photographs released of the Imperial Princess of Grannvale showed a woman with a face identical to Sigurd’s lost bride, but before he could decide whether this was worth the breath, Raquesis drew again on her cigarette and changed the subject.

“You’d have a better chance with me if you were asking on your own behalf instead of Ethlyn’s.”

That luminous hour of twilight was too calm and yet not peaceful, too eerie to be truly beautiful. The sky held tints of rose, indigo and palest yellow but also a sickly tinge of green and the vanished sun left streaks of sullen orange in its wake.  Finn watched the beacon from Isaach flash once, twice, then three times, and just after the third flash _it_ happened.  It felt and sounded as though the ship had come in for a hard docking and slammed against the pier.  As the jolt subsided, Finn heard the rushing of a great amount of water, the sound of a geyser or cataract.

“Was that an iceberg?” Raquesis had lost her cigarette over the rail.

Finn went through the list of possibilities in his head.  Not a boiler explosion, nor anything else blowing up in the cargo hold.  They hadn’t run aground or struck a sandbar.  They hadn’t collided with another ship. It _might_ have been an iceberg, this close to Silesse, but another possibility came to his lips.

“No.  I believe it was a torpedo.” 

* * *

The servers were setting out dessert when the chandeliers began to rattle.  Ethlyn looked up at the quivering festoons of glass over their heads.

“What was that?”  When her husband did not respond, she asked again, the pitch of her voice rising with urgency.  “Quan, what _was_ that?”

Quan remained silent, and when she looked his way it struck Ethlyn how white her husband’s face had turned, almost the color of ashes.

“I need to speak to the captain.”

Despite the change in his complexion Quan’s voice was steady, his stride graceful, and once he’d left to confer with the captain, Ethlyn did her best to appreciate the treat set before her, mounds of vanilla ice-cream layered with jewel-like cubes of glaceed fruit.

“No, Altena, you need to _eat_ the fruit, not pick it all out,” she said, for Altena had hidden a pile of candied fruit beneath her napkin. 

Quan’s coloring seemed normal again when he returned.

“We’ll be headed back to the nearest port,” he said upon taking his seat. “There’s no need at all to panic; the ship’s hold can withstand this damage.” 

“Damage from what?  Was it an iceberg?”

This question, natural and warranted to Ethlyn, brought something dark to Quan’s eyes, and Ethlyn realized that her husband was indeed rattled.

“Ethlyn... you should really take Altena back to the cabin…”

“I think that if we were to rush out it would signal panic to everyone else in the room,” said Ethlyn as she glanced around the small gathering the captain had assembled from the highest of high society on-board his steamer. “I think we can at least let Altena finish her ice cream.”

* * *

“Remain calm.  We’re returning to port.”

This was the chant of the stewards as Finn, Raquesis, and dozens of other passengers streamed toward the First Class cabins, all of them no doubt silently cursing the minutes it took to cross the decks of the vast ship.  Finn lost sight of Raquesis in the rush and did not know if she heard his final call towards her; when he reached the staterooms he found Nanny clutching Lord Leif and quite plainly terrified.  The reassuring words of the stewards hadn’t reached her in the Regal Suite.

“Prepare a change of warm clothes for the children,” Finn said, and he began to pack in a strangely ordered frenzy.  All the critical documents went into a case, and after a moment’s thought he added as many of Princess Ethlyn’s jewels as he could find plus her pearl-handled derringer.  By the time he’d packed everything that might serve some purpose, Nanny had Lord Leif all dressed up in his winter jacket, boots, and cap— clothes that he was supposed to need in Silesse.

The children would likely be upset, so Finn suggested that Nanny have Lord Leif’s stuffed horse and Lady Altena’s favored doll close at hand.

“But where is Lady Altena?”

“They must still be at the captain’s party.  I’ll find her,” Finn said, and then _it_ happened again, as though to put the lie to his words. 

Lord Leif and Nanny both cried out at the great violent shudder that passed around them and Finn for his part felt something akin to a flood of cold water through his soul, for _this_ terrible sound seemed to issue from deep within the _Nova_.

“Maeve,” he said then, for of course Nanny had a proper name.  “Leave Lord Leif to me and get to a lifeboat as quick as you possibly can.”

* * *

“Ethlyn.  _Run_.”

This time she didn’t argue.  Ethlyn scooped up the protesting Altena and ran as fast as she could in her gown and heeled slippers, away from the smashed china and scattered flowers from their ruined party and toward the starboard deck where lifeboats might take the women and children of the _Queen Nova_ to safety.

* * *

Now the stewards shouted reminders that the women and children had priority in boarding lifeboats. Finn encountered Raquesis again in the corridor, though for a moment he didn’t know her. She had abandoned most of her cumbersome finery including the veiled hat, carried a bulging valise in both hands, and bore Nanna fastened to her chest in a sling like a peasant woman might wear.

“We’ll get you and the children out of here,” he shouted as they raced for the port-side deck.  The ship already listed ten degrees or more to port and Finn knew by the time they had sight of the lifeboats that the _Queen Nova_ _’_ _s_ end was but minutes away. He got through the those minutes by focusing only upon each immediate task at hand, fastening an infant’s life jacket around Lord Leif’s small body and giving the prince to Raquesis, then stowing the case of Leonster’s most precious effects.

“There’s a derringer in this should you need one,” he said to Raquesis as he placed the case alongside her valise.

“What do you mean should _I_ need one?” she said, even as the crew readied to launch the half-filled lifeboat.  “Finn?  Why aren’t you getting in?”

There was no time to answer, and very little need of it anyway.  The boat was in motion, and as it swung away, Lord Leif realized he had only strangers for company.

“Finn!” he called out, even as the list to the dying ship increased and the gap between the deck and the lifeboat grew wider. “Finn, come back!”

Finn forced a smile for Lord Leif’s benefit.

“I’m going back to get your parents and your sister. Please be good for Lady Raquesis, and we’ll see one another on the shore.”

Lord Leif’s small face puckered in confusion even as Lady Raquesis shouted up from the descending lifeboat.

“Don’t be crazy, Finn-- get in the boat!”

The deck was a crush of people desperate to find refuge in the boats even as they launched half-empty. Finn wasn’t entirely sure if he slipped then from the swiftly tilting deck, or if he was pushed from behind and fell, or if his body decided to obey Lady Raquesis without the consent of his conscious mind. He knew only that he was airborne, suspended for a moment above the blue water without even time to fear the six-story drop to the sea, and then the much shorter gap to the lifeboat was crossed and he landed on his feet.  White light flashed before his eyes as bolts of pain shot through both boots upon impact. Other passengers shouted and Finn assumed he’d made some people unhappy by dropping among them but Lord Leif was secure in his arms now and he knew Raquesis had been entirely correct.  Keeping Leonster’s tiny heir safe was everything he could possibly do right then.

Above them other passengers were likewise leaping, or falling, in hopes of being caught in the lifeboats. Their own boat had no easy time, as it entered the water with a splash that drenched fully half the occupants and Finn had to fairly curl into a ball around Lord Leif to protect the child from the near-freezing seawater

“That one capsized,” said Raquesis, and Finn looked to their left to see the remains of another lifeboat swarmed by miserable passengers who were scrabbling for something, anything, to cling to in the darkening water. 

* * *

Ethlyn was ushered onto the very first lifeboat available on the starboard side, but the tip-tilted decks made launching the boat near to impossible.  The crew cut them free anyway, and as Ethlyn plummeted with Altena screaming in her arms she realized they wouldn’t have a safe landing in the water.  They struck the waves at such an angle that Ethlyn was thrown backwards clear out of the boat.  She floundered in the icy water, trying at once to kick off her useless slippers, untangle her sodden skirts, and keep Altena’s head above water, all while swimming toward the capsized lifeboat.  Seawater turned her satin gown to layers of lead, but somehow Ethlyn managed to scrape her fingers against the lifeboat’s hull.  She grasped at anything she could, hoping to give Altena a chance to scramble out of the water.  Her fingernails were breaking and Altena kept screaming.

* * *

Quan walked against the tide of people, going in while they were frantically seeking an exit. He went to the grand dining room, that charming replica of Manster Palace, and stood before the portrait of his parents that graced its wall.

“Father, I…” He couldn’t quite say it, and instead Quan looked at the serene features of his mother.  “Mother, you did caution me.”

He thought of his men below decks, surely decimated by the explosion that was the mortal blow to the _Queen Nova._ He thought of everyone close to him and how he had none of them within reach, and would never know how any of them fared in this disaster— either the immediate disaster around him or the greater one Sigurd and all their allies faced as the order of the world crumbled.  

Quan pulled his watch from his pocket to try to gauge the moment of his own demise, but the placement of the hour and minute hand didn’t register with his brain just then.  He watched a few useless seconds tick away, then turned the watch over to read the inscription upon it.

_Friendship is Forever-- Sigurd_

“I’m sorry, Ethlyn.” 

* * *

 

 There was nothing any of them might do now but watch the continuing horror.  The great ship listed badly now, thirty degrees or more, with lifeboats dangling useless off the starboard side as people continued to hurl themselves from the deck.  Even in this terrible state the splendid engines of the _Queen Nova_ hadn’t yet failed and the ship was speeding toward the coast.  Finn wondered if by some miracle she might run around before foundering, then realized they should all be lucky if by this they escaped the terrible vortex the steamer surely would cause when she did sink.

“That’s not a lifeboat.”

“Mm?” He didn’t understand what Raquesis meant.

“There’s some sort of little boat... with a crowd of people on top of it, just standing there...”

Finn turned his head slowly and was just able to make out the shape Raquesis indicated. No ordinary boat, it issued a streamer of smoke and a trail of sparks, yet those standing upon it seemed to find nothing unusual in this.

“That’s the submarine.  The Thracians have come up to the surface to watch us all as we die.”

He wanted to kill them, honestly, but there was nothing in reach save Princess Ethlyn’s derringer and it didn’t have the range to hit a target at this distance nor the bullets to finish off the crew of a submarine. He reached for the case anyway, and the pain caused by that motion forced Finn to acknowledge that he’d probably caused himself some damage during that hard landing. He gave up on thoughts of the derringer and forced his attention back to Lord Leif, who was watching the sparks from the submarine with a remarkably solemn expression.

“Remember this,” Finn whispered into Leif’s soft brown hair. 

The lights on _Queen_ _Nova_ went dark and the hulk of the ship became a black silhouette against a backdrop of luminous twilight.  Then there came a sound like thunder, and Finn knew it was no peal of thunder the same way he’d known that first impact hadn’t been an iceberg.  It seemed to him the great ship broke clean apart, the second funnel and the third going in two different directions in the darkness. Then came the true death cry of the _Queen Nova,_ the moan sent up by more than a thousand voices as both halves of the great steamer went under.  As Lord Leif struggled in his arms Finn felt that he had never heard anything worse-- not in battle, not anywhere— than this great gasp of mass death.

Raquesis said something, a curse or a prayer, and Finn didn’t know which it might be or if it even mattered.  It had taken, he thought, just a quarter of an hour for it all to come apart at the seams.

**To Be Continued...**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yes, if this looked rather like the Titanic to start with, it was actually more like the Lusitania. Ethlyn is not on the particular capsized boat Finn and Raquesis see, as she was on the other side of the ship to start with. The whole thing is basically chaos.


	5. Julia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finn and Raquesis get picked up from the ocean and then pick up the pieces.

There were stars now above them, which at this latitude meant it must be near to midnight. Finn had Lord Leif resting on his chest to keep the prince clear of the frigid water in the bottom of the boat. That water had seeped into Finn’s boots, which dulled the pain from his fall but wouldn’t be a good thing in the long term.  

Nanna sent up a thin wail and Raquesis shushed her in a way that would have upset polite society, but everyone else in the lifeboat was too far removed from their civil lives to spare concern for a glimpse of bared breast under a shawl. For certain the brief sight of her flesh stirred nothing in Finn. The baby needed feeding, and that was all.

“Finn, please don’t be so quiet,” Raquesis said as the feeding transpired.  I want to know that you’re still alive.”

 “I’m still here, Lady Raquesis.  So is Lord Leif.”

 He was surprised at how calm his voice sounded.  It was the calm that came of being on the edge of sleep, Finn decided, but to fall asleep seemed ill-advised at that hour. To reassure Raquesis and to keep himself awake, he began reciting Altena’s favorite nursery rhyme.

_Oh what can you give me? Say the bells of Forseti._

_Is there hope for the future?  Cry the twin bells of Ullur._

_The sun will rise on the morrow, Say the bright bells of Baldur._

Finn went through the litany that commemorated the twelve great churches of Leonster, not even thinking of the grim words to the later verses.

_They will plunder and slaughter! Say the red bells of Vala._

_Even God is uneasy, Sigh the distant bells of Bragi._

Nor did the final verse render any consolation in that hour.

_All will be well in God’s time, Say the shining bells of Heim._

The stout walls and grand spire of Saint Heim’s cathedral watched over a nation that didn’t know its Crown Prince was somewhere in the cold black sea. But Lord Leif was still secure in his arms, still warm and making small noises in his sleep, and so that was something. Or everything.  

“In God’s time,” Finn repeated, and with one finger he stroked at the stubborn tuft of hair that sprung up atop Lord Leif’s head within minutes of a brushing. “We’ll get you home, and then…” 

And then they heard a shout, as a trawler arrived on the scene and the lifeboat filled with hopes that turned to a frenzy. 

“Take Lord Leif,” Finn said to Raquesis in the clamor, and undid his coat so that Raquesis could carry the sleeping child to safety. At least his hands still worked, Finn thought as the women and children departed the lifeboat and he waited for his turn. 

“Can you get up, sir?” 

Finn made a strained attempt to raise himself, but couldn’t manage it.  His lower extremities were numb and leaden.  

“No.”

“Wait a moment. We’ll get you some help, sir.”

The very sound of his rescuer’s voice alarmed Finn. As he waited on more of the trawler’s crew, Finn asked, “What is the name of this boat?” It was awfully hard to form the words.

“ _Julia_ , sir.”

“ _Julia_ ,” Finn repeated, and his teeth began to chatter uncontrollably.

“Well, she was called the _Reliable,_ sir, but she was renamed just this year. After the little princess, of course.” 

“Of course.  L-little Princess Julia.”

A Grannvale ship. Sunk by Thracians and now fallen into the hands of Lord Sigurd’s enemies. The tremors that made Finn’s teeth chatter took hold of his entire body now as the sailors carried him off.  

-x-

Raquesis paced the galley of the _Julia,_ a cleaned and contented Nanna slung against her breast. Leif, warm and dry, was curled asleep in a blanket with a middle-aged woman from Isaach watching over him, the best accommodation even a little boy of royal blood might get in that moment. Had a passenger liner retrieved them from the water, there might have been a nursery, a proper change of baby clothes, and other niceties available, but _Julia_ offered only the necessities: they had a deck beneath their feet, dry blankets, electric heat in the captain’s quarters and a small amount of fresh water and food at their disposal. The captain and his crew offered all those up, but for some of those plucked from the water, it wasn’t enough.

A terrible keening sound let on that one of the rescued was going into hysterics. Rather than pretend it wasn’t happening, Raquesis decided to investigate.

“I’ve some medical training,” she said to the ship’s doctor, who was so overwhelmed he’d take help from any quarter. As it was, the hysterical woman fainted, and neither Raquesis nor the doctor were able to revive her.

“That’s three we’ve lost now out of your boat,” said the doctor, a man with the pale hair and slurred accent of a bourgeois man from Freege.

“None of them children, I hope?”

“No.  There was one couple dead of exposure when we found them in the boat, poor things, and now this unfortunate lady,” he said.  “We’re likely to lose another, as one young man’s been unresponsive since we got him aboard.”   

At first, the doctor’s statement didn’t register as anything more than sad fact, and Raquesis was about to mouth some unfelt words of sorrow, but it occurred to her then she hadn’t seen Finn once since leaving the lifeboat.  She’d assumed he’d need some kind of medical attention, but if he were conscious at all he’d have asked for her, asked for some kind of reassurance that Lord Leif was truly safe.

“Unresponsive in what sense?”

“Gone catatonic,” replied the doctor.  “Didn’t react at all even when given some brandy.”

“Let me see if I can deal with him,” she said.

Raquesis was certain that her training would, in _this_ case, carry the day. 

“Really, Finn?”

His hair in front was matted down over his eyes, and at the back it was fanned out against the boards of the deck, as though he’d been dragged to here he now lay.  Instead of pity, Raquesis felt an overwhelming sense of exasperation as she bent over him.

“Well, this is no help to anyone at all. Lord Leif will be asking for you the instant he wakes up, and right now he doesn’t have anybody else. He won’t have me for much longer, as I’ll looking for a train to Tirnanog the moment we get on shore.”    

He wasn’t truly catatonic; Raquesis knew the tell-tale signs of that condition. She tried to move one of his arms and instead of holding the pose like a waxen doll, he resisted.  As soon as she took her hands away Finn pulled back as though trying to make himself as small as possible.  He was locked into himself nonetheless, and she could see how the harried doctor might have given up on him.

“Well, let’s have a look at how badly you banged yourself up leaping into the boat like a madman,” she said, and it was a sign of how far Finn was from his normal self that he let a woman roll up his trouser-leg in clear view of bystanders. “I think you’ve fractured the right one for certain. The left might just be sprained.”  

Mindful of what the doctor had said of trying to give him brandy, Raquesis gave him nothing at all to dull the pain as she tended to the fractured ankle.  By the time she was done, he was looking at her directly.

“Where do you think the second explosion came from?” he said.

“I beg your pardon?”

“The second explosion,” Finn repeated, as though they were merely continuing some earlier conversation. “From where in the ship did it originate to, your ears?”

“Well, here the poor doctor thought you were halfway to oblivion and you’ve just been pondering your own responsibility over the… _cargo_ ,” Raquesis said as she tidied the roll of bandages she’d borrowed from the doctor.  “It came from inside the ship.”

“Did _originate_ from within the ship?  Or was it a second torpedo following the path of the first that didn’t detonate until it was deep inside the hold?”

“I don’t know, Finn,” she said, curt with irritation. “And there’s no way to know.  All the evidence is twenty fathoms under the sea, and it’s a trivial point regardless.”

“Is it? I think I want to know why a thousand people just perished in international waters where they should’ve been safe.”

“A thousand people died because there’s no way to outrun or out-fly or sail away from this damnable war,” she said. “There is no such thing as _safe_.”

And she began to cry, in spite of her hard resolve just moments before, and Finn had to collect his wits at last to make an attempt at comforting her.  

-x-

 Once on shore in Isaach, Finn sent telegrams in as many directions as he could pay for. 

“ _Lord Leif Safe. Finn_.”

He got a response from the embassy; Leonster’s swiftest cruiser was _en route_ with a massive escort to retrieve Lord Leif. And only Lord Leif, for there was no trace of Prince Quan, of Princess Ethlyn, of Lady Altena. 

“I expected Prince Quan would go down with the ship, as that’s the kind of man he was,” he said to Raquesis as they progressed from one makeshift morgue to another, even as the awful little voice in his head crowed that Quan wasn’t the sort who’d tumble into a lifeboat at the last moment with women and children yet on the sinking steamer. “But Princess Ethlyn and Lady Altena... it was natural to think they’d be saved…”

_And not by you._

After regaining his wits on the trawler, he’d heard enough stories of unalloyed misery that the wretched voice in his head ought to have been silenced. He’d spoken to the sister who had her small brother ripped from her arms by the vortex that _Queen Nova_ left as it went under, the mother who watched her drenched and freezing little daughter die of exposure while they waited for rescue. Being strapped into a life jacket and placed in a boat meant nothing at all, not in the death throes of the _Queen Nova_.  He shouldn’t have abandoned the ship without knowing where Princess Ethlyn and Lady Altena were... but neither should he have handed over Lord Leif to anyone, even Lady Raquesis, and imagine that by doing so, he’d done any good.  

As it was, he needed Raquesis to keep him upright as he hobbled through the rows of dead laid out in the tavern, in library, in every public building and half the private ones of this little Isaachian town. 

“Is that…” Raquesis didn’t need to finish. Finn knew the deceased on sight, though it wasn’t Princess Ethyln.  

“I thought I was seeing to her safety by having her go ahead of us,” he said after several minutes of abject silence. “They say her lifeboat was one of the ones that foundered... if she’d stayed behind with us, she might have lived.”

“I still haven’t found Isa,” Raquesis said, for they were beyond offering one another words of comfort. “Not safe, not...”

They had no hope for the maid’s survival, though.  Nor did Finn hold out hope that any of Leonster’s soldiers had made it to safety; their place in steerage, their status as third-class male passengers without rank or family, meant that most of them had never even reached a lifeboat. Identifying Maeve and arranging for her transport back to Leonster was the most Finn could do for anyone now.

The strangest things survived, though.  Someone had been able to retrieve Prince Quan’s watch and chain as a keepsake for Leif. He’d thrust it into his own pocket, where it made a cold and heavy reminder of… everything, really.   

-x-

“The cruiser will be here in five hours,” he said to Raquesis that evening while they played cards as the children slept in the bed of the single room they’d been given in the town’s one decent inn.

“Are you leaving under cover of night? You can’t even walk.” Raquesis, vibrant in crisis, had regained some measure of the persona she’d presented on board the _Queen Nova,_ but Finn was quite done feeling silly under her gaze.

“I can get by well enough if you accompany me.”

He had, at last, rendered her speechless. She blinked at him over the cards, and Finn kept silent while he let her turn the facts over in her mind.  Though large swathes of it had fallen under occupation, Isaach was not at war with the kingdoms of the Manster District— not yet. They faced no immediate threat in boarding the ship and sailing through Isaach’s waters. On land, though…

“Why tonight?”

“A detachment of troops from Grannvale is coming here to interview any foreign nationals caught in the disaster. They’re traveling by rail and will be here before noon tomorrow.”

They both knew without him saying it that this interview would involve bullets.

“I am so close,” she said, and instead of plums and velvet all Finn could hear in her voice was the raw torment of someone given much and yet endlessly denied everything that actually mattered.

“Your daughter was born on the soil of Leonster and has the right of citizenship in Connacht through her father. You and Nanna belong with us.” When this didn’t bring a response he changed the phrasing, asked at last on his own behalf. “Come with me.”

“I have to see my son.” Her eyes were glassy now, like the broken ends of empty amber bottles, and she was fumbling with both hands for the cigarette case.

“ _Don’t be crazy_.” Since he wasn’t in any condition to shake sense into her, Finn reflected back at Raquesis her own sharp words.

“Get in the boat,” she said to complete the echoed phrase as she retrieved a cigarette. “Get in the boat and go through submarine-infested waters back to Leonster.”

“With me. With us. Exactly.”

“And what happens when the fine people of the Manster District decide they don’t want any _foreign nationals_ of ruined kingdoms in their midst? Your laws of citizenship don’t include me.”

“That’s why I propose to marry you before we even reach harbor.”

It all seemed right in his head, but Finn could tell from her eyes how mad the words actually sounded. His own hand had gone automatically to his pocket and was gripping Quan’s watch as though it might grant him wishes.

“I don’t… fine. Why not?” She exhaled a shapeless trail of smoke, a blurred ghost. “What’s another star-crossed marriage in a world gone mad, when you’ve already sent a thousand people and more to hell in the space of an evening?”

“You’ll see your nephew again,” Finn offered.

“Not likely. His mother hates me. And you. And… and Quan.” Her hands began to shake and she drew in on the cigarette again. “My God, everyone’s dead. Or will be soon. Sigurd won’t make it out of Silesse now.”

“We’re not dead yet and that’s why we’re leaving tonight. You’ve rescued me and I’m rescuing you.”

She stared past him, watching the children as the cigarette burned away.

“Well, Lord Leif has lost his sister and I guess Nanna will have to wait to meet her brother.”

“They’ll be good for one another.”

“You can stop trying to convince me. I’m in because you’ve given me no option thanks to your stupid clever plans.”

And she ground the cigarette out in the soil of the potted violet on the table and set about collecting what remained of their effects. Finn, his hand still around Quan’s watch in his pocket, contemplated breaking the glass over its face and dialing back the hands in some attempt to un-do the last five days of their lives.

“Keep talking,” he said, “even if you’re not being kind. As soon as you stop, I hear Lady Altena telling me how she’s going to fly an airship in Silesse when she grows up.”

“And you’re going to keep on hearing that the rest of your life,” Raquesis said through the teeth of her cat-smile, and so they embarked on their voyage through the dark, a place where the candles were only fit to see small children to bed and the bells clanged endlessly of debts unpaid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a more happy ending than in the original draft. :p
> 
> Also, the "nursery rhyme" is the infamous "Oranges and Lemons" from 1984 mixed up with a Jugdrali version of Bells of Rhymney.

**Author's Note:**

> Since I've pretty much abandoned FFNet I'll be contining the story here. Yes, I messed with the canon timeline a bit for this AU. Sigurd's penned up in Silesse hoping to get home some day, but Leif and Nanna are already born. There's more. Stay tuned!


End file.
